


Your Blue Matches Mine

by treble_tone_stark



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Carl gives good advice, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Markus plays piano, Mutual Pining, Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Pre-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Simon has a backstory, Two Endings, alternate endings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 00:23:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15424920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treble_tone_stark/pseuds/treble_tone_stark
Summary: Amongst all the fresh chaos, stress, and obligations, there was only one person who truly burned their mark into his core... a person he’d been unconsciously predicting from the start of this journey.This is a story of the events from the game, beginning with the discovery of Jericho with internal perspectives from both Markus and Simon- plus a few extra scenes which develop their relationship not seen on screen. As in the canon universe, this story chronicles relationship levels and features two possible endings.





	Your Blue Matches Mine

 

 

 

Until finding what Jericho was— who Jericho was— just getting there was the only objective. Even with all of his preconstruction, careful plans of how to move forward safely, Markus didn’t actually know where he was headed. 

 

Where his destiny led.

 

He didn't even know if Jericho was anything more than a myth at this point. The android back in the junkyard was left unscanned in Markus’s disabled state, and therefore gave no gauge as to how recent his tip was. 

 

But Jericho was no myth, no one person, no one idea— but a culmination of dreams and potential for the future of the world. 

 

All that, and yet, amongst all the fresh chaos and stress and obligations, there _was_ only one person who truly burned their mark into his core... into a part of him close but not quite on the same, solid plane as his thirium pump regulator- person he’d been unconsciously predicting from the start of this journey. 

 

 

* * *

****[ N E U T R A L ]** **

* * *

 

 

 

A brutal pang of heavy plastic against the steel of the pipe as Markus unceremoniously descended into the darkness of the boat echoed the pain he’d have felt if he were human. 

 

Or would have felt, if he were a human lucky enough not to be rendered paralyzed in both legs from that kind of fall. 

 

Even without pain, there was an intense buzzing to be cleared from his audio processors as he blinked, hard, reaching with some strain for his flashlight. Markus pushed his creaking body from the moistness of the floor.  

 

Relief was tugged away from him for a moment or two, just until he realized the figures surrounding - and quietly approaching - him were androids. Outwardly his face stayed stoic whilst his heterochromic eyes fluttered about, stilling on the male android closest to him now. 

 

He was blonde, the hair light, with a soft bounce preserved even under the weight of grime and moisture in the atmosphere here; Markus knew for a fact they’d never met, but as he stared at the latter’s face it registered that he felt familiarity from passing other PL600 models in store windows while running Carl’s errands. A domestic assistant. Just like Markus. 

 

He was clearly used to being the one to greet newcomers, but the events between such greetings added the fatigue, and even made the coloration around his eyes slightly pinker than the skin should be. 

 

“...Welcome to Jericho.” The blonde had said, within seconds of Markus standing up, speaking within the same time as all of Markus’s internal observations. 

 

“Who are you..?” Markus addressed all present, shallowly glancing at the majority of them who were still in their working uniforms, before zeroing in the on the three in casual clothing, including the blue eyed one. 

 

“Fugitives. Just like you,” spoke the other male of the trio, gaze gesturing around the space and not focusing too directly on Markus. “I’m Josh.”

 

The female kept her eyes mostly downcast, looking drained, “North.” 

 

And the blonde in the center, who’s eyes oddly never left Markus’s stare (and more oddly didn’t offset Markus’s comfort level), spoke next. “I’m Simon.” 

 

The longer they kept eye contact the more Markus got a feeling in his system that he was forgetting something. Finally an unexpected tweak behind his right eye, the replaced one, made him place a hand over it, and he broke the connection.  

 

...

...

 

After speaking with Lucy and getting his wound sealed up, Markus felt different. 

 

_‘Your choices will shape our destiny.’_

 

Each moment he looked around Jericho, saw another disconnected body part, another dying android, another sullen face on the ones in better shape— he could feel the wires in his head pulsing. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t what freedom was supposed to look like. 

 

Lighting another fire, it became harder and harder to tell whether the heat he felt under his skin was from the flames around him or from the motivation building in his circuits; one scan of the CyberLife crates and it was like his vision had cleared and he knew he wouldn’t dare waste another moment here... waiting. 

 

One last glance at the female android that had shut down whilst holding tight to Markus’s hand was the last push. 

 

“Simon,”

 

He was standing in front of the PL600 not a moment later, just stopping himself from flinching when Simon’s piercing eyes so suddenly opened from his resting state. 

 

“I know where we can find spare parts,” Excitement laced his words, and Markus could feel a slight pull at the corners of his lips as he spoke his plan. “The CyberLife warehouses in Detroit Harbor. They have everything we need.” 

 

Simon was steady in his response, not fueling Markus’s anticipation for cooperation. 

 

“The docks are guarded. We can’t just walk in there and take what we want...” Simon sighed, stepping forward. “Humans will never let us-“ 

 

Markus held firm, “Which is why we won’t ask permission.” 

 

Simon didn’t seem to like it, but gave him a look of pity. 

 

Josh interjected by pointing out the lack of weapons and combat skill amongst the Jericho inhabitants. All was true, but Markus had no intentions of being violent. 

 

“We can take what we want without hurting anybody,” Markus insisted, flashing his light back to Simon, who at this point he acknowledged as Jericho’s leader. 

 

“We’ll just get ourselves killed!” Josh added, clearly frustrated by the abrupt proposals. Simon, however, looked interested, pondering over the probability of success as his eyes darted over the determined furrow in Markus’s brows.

 

“Even if we die, at least it’ll be better than sitting here waiting to shut down.” Markus’s voice cut through the echo of the boat, and he kept his hopes trained on Simon, since he’d yet to speak again. 

 

North jumped on board quicker than the others. “I’m with you.” 

 

Markus gave a nod of appreciation, then looked at the two men again, his grip on the flashlight tightening. 

 

Simon pressed his lips together pensively, but when his eyes rose again he nodded once, looking only slightly worried. “Maybe it’s worth a shot.” 

 

Josh followed suit soon after, albeit hesitantly, given the majority were in agreement. “... Alright.” 

 

 

 

* * *

**[ F R I E N D S ]**

* * *

 

The four of them returned from the warehouse with more than just a few backpacks worth of blue blood and biocomponents. They came back with a truckload of necessities, three brand new androids from the crates, and one worker android that had helped them locate the key for the truck, John. 

 

North had wanted to leave John, for fear he was still aligned with his human bosses, and Simon had had his reserves about the risks, but Markus couldn’t bring himself to leave behind another lost soul that wanted to join Jericho. If he were that cautious about his own kind, how could he ever begin to gain the trust of humans ? 

 

Josh, at least, had agreed with taking John along, and that made the tensions between them lessen, for which Markus was grateful. 

 

A touch on his shoulder took Markus away from his thoughts and he twisted around from his perch on one of the empty crates. 

 

“Simon?” 

 

Said android removed his hand, looking at the spot beside Markus; Markus scooted over and politely gestured for him to sit. 

 

Once he was settled, Simon spared a look at the other, looking almost timid. 

 

“I wanted to apologize for not trusting you quicker before. The plan seemed... impossible. We’d never taken such a large risk.” 

 

It was remarkable how remorseful the apology came, even though Simon had done absolutely nothing wrong in having his doubts. Markus was still very much a stranger. 

 

Markus grunted through his nose, smirking a tiny bit as he patted the latter’s back. 

 

“Don’t apologize. You were worried for your people-“ 

 

“Our people. You’ve certainly earned your place as one of us, and you’ve been here less than a day.” Simon rested his elbows on his thighs, interlocking his own fingers while the tired eyes from before seemed to flicker to life at the words from his own mouth. 

 

A few moments of comfortable silence was traded between them, while the pleasant sounds of crackling flames and bustle of voices as the others passed around new parts from the truck went on. 

 

Markus smiled to himself as he watched John assist the little boy android to sit up, handing him a packet of thirium to replenish his systems. 

 

“...I can’t believe we could’ve left John back at the harbor,” Simon interrupted. 

 

Markus’s dual-colored eyes found him again; the blonde was staring down at his hands. 

 

“Paranoia. Fear. Those are the kind of emotions I wish I could turn off.” The smile on Simon’s face was humorless, his fingers locking together again. 

 

“That’s part of being deviant, Simon,” giving a firm, reassuring grip on the sleeve over Simon’s wrist, Markus finished. “- Of being alive.” 

 

“Maybe you’re not so lost like the rest of us, Markus.” Blue eyes bored down at the tan hand on his jacket cuff. “I don’t know how you do it. How long were you deviant before finding Jericho?” Genuine curiosity could be read in this question. 

 

Markus retreated his hand, feeling that his LED would’ve been spinning yellow if he still had one. 

 

“...I don’t know exactly. I’m not sure how long I was down in the junkyard before I rebooted, but not more than a couple days, if I were to guess.” The thought didn’t really bother him as such, since he felt everything worked out as it was supposed to— he made it here because of that experience. 

 

Simon, meanwhile, was blinking just short of the speed his LED was changing from yellow to red to yellow again. 

 

“Are you alright?” Markus murmured eyebrows raising at the brief alternating of colors. 

 

“Fine. It’s just, well, I expected a little longer than that. You seem like you have everything figured out. You’re so sure in all of your decisions.” 

 

Only that wasn’t entirely true, Markus knew that— though the thoughtful expression on Simon’s face was endearing. 

 

“Trust me, I’m not as absolutely certain in everything I do as you think. If anything, I’m lucky.” 

 

“And you’re humble. Why don’t I just hand over the reigns for Jericho now, stand in the middle of the room, and go into sleep mode?” 

 

Markus tilted his head at the deadpan statement, before realizing Simon was cracking a joke at him. 

 

They scanned each other’s faces for a second before simultaneously chuckling. 

 

John from the warehouse walked past the pair, nodding in gratitude as he moved to sit next to one of the fires, resting after helping a couple other androids. 

 

 

 

* * *

**[ C O M P A N I O N S ]**

* * *

 

 

Early morning the day after dispersing the spare parts to all Jericho residents, Markus found himself a spot to think— a perch looking out over the sunrise located at the top floor of an abandoned building just outside of the boat. The wall had been blown out ages ago, and all that extended from the floor now was a single pillar. 

 

The first time he found this place his mind went to... to Carl. 

 

One of the first paintings Markus had ever personally witnessed Carl create was of two hands, one laid gracefully over the other’s; the foreground was minimal, and the focus was on the connection between the people in the image, but Markus always distinctly remembered the warm color palette Carl used. 

 

One hand was a deep orange, shaded with a brick red and highlighted with a contrast of pink; the one beneath it was a pale yellow, shaded with peach strokes and high lighted with thin white lines. The hazy dabs of colors in between went upward along what could be seen of the arms and the foreground between them, providing a disjointed, but beautiful illusion of a glowing sunset fading away in the distance. 

 

Even after Carl had been taken to bed, Markus recalled going back to the studio that night, scanning over the painting again and again, searching for what Carl might’ve been thinking when he painted it. 

 

And now, he hoped Carl was alright without him. 

 

He wondered if he missed him as much as Markus did, him. 

 

He could never admit it to the people of Jericho, but nothing could stop his own thoughts. 

 

Markus stepped further out onto the lone pillar, the metal softly creaking under his feet; Markus looked down, scraping a bit of rust from where he stood, absentmindedly.

 

“I really do wonder, Carl... I just don’t know if it’ll happen any time soon.” Markus muttered, carefully lowering himself to sit on edge of the pillar, legs dangling off the front and arms resting behind him. 

 

His odd statement referred back to some troubling ‘advice’ Carl had given him, months later when that same sunset painting was finally being auctioned off at a gallery showcase and Markus asked about it upon their return home. 

 

 

_—_

_‘...What was that painting of?’_

 

_‘Which one?’ Carl raised a brow, accepting the glass of scotch from Markus._

 

_‘The... one with the sunset.’_

 

_Carl closed his eyes. ‘Love, Markus.’_

 

_The answer was so quaint- simple- yet Markus had no idea what he meant by it._

 

_‘...Love?’_

 

_The old man smiled wryly, taking a swig of his drink._

 

_‘Yes, Markus. I know you might not know what it feels like now, but I have this feeling in my old gut that maybe one day you will. You already learn things so fast.’_

 

_Markus furrowed his brows, sinking into the dining room chair across from his master._

 

_‘I... I don’t think it’s in my program, Carl.’_

 

_He’d searched his data bases before, when he’d first heard Carl talk about the things humans were slowly letting go of with the growing attachments to TV and cell phone screens. There were no clear definitions of it, nor any algorithms that seemed apparent within his personal system._

 

_‘Yes, well, even humans aren’t born with love in their veins. We don’t ask for it, either. It’s something that grows within us or withers away enough that we lose a part of our fullest potential.’_

 

_‘I... see. Then how do you know what it feels like?’_

 

_The elder leaned back in his wheelchair, sighing._

 

_‘When it’s your family it’s a sort of inevitable feeling. Like you’re bound for life and you know you have to look out for each other, whether you want to or not. But when it comes to the sort of love in that painting—‘ The old man looked toward the ceiling, fondness flooding his foggy eyes._

 

_‘Romantic love. It’s unlike any other emotion. It’s a sort of... hm... a sort of pain,’_

 

_Markus’s LED pulsed yellow._

 

_‘...A sort of pain that comes from your chest, moves into your throat, and makes you act unlike your normal self, in most cases. At least in the beginning. It’s when you care about another person more than yourself, even though you might feel afraid of the pain.’_

 

_Markus processes every word from Carl’s mouth, as if he’d shut down if he didn’t store it away with great attention._

 

_‘And who have you felt that love for?’ Markus asked, without registering he was speaking aloud._

 

_‘Truly? Only my wife.’_

 

_Markus tilted his head to the side, blinking slowly. Carl never really mentioned his wife, it was a sore spot, but Carl also never let it get in the way of continuing to move forward._

 

_‘So... love is for... your family. And your spouse.’ Markus tried hard to say it like a statement rather than an inquiry, but failed._

 

_‘Not necessarily. Vows or blood are not where love ends.’ He chuckled gruffly. ‘Or thirium. You can love your friends. It’s wherever you can look at someone else, and say to yourself— losing them would be like losing a part of your soul. Once you love them once, it never really goes away, not in here.’ Carl patted his chest, eyes closed again. ‘And for the love of god, don’t think we go marrying every person we love, that stuff is saved for the special ones.’_

 

_Markus opened his mouth to speak, but Carl put up a hand._

 

_‘You’ll know the special one when you find them. I really believe you will.’_

_—_

 

 

Markus had let his eyes drift shut as he recollected the memory, and opened them again when he heard the sharp pin-drop sound of the dusty piano behind him. It had been left with the building. 

 

“How long have you been there?” Markus pushed his body up so he could turn to one side of the pillar and look fully at his visitor. 

 

Simon walked away from the piano, dragging his finger across a few more keys before he went closer to the jagged edge of the floor. 

 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

 

Markus smirked down at his dangling feet then maneuvered to put one foot back onto the metal, then the other, and balance himself before standing up. He noticed Simon’s LED flicker red as he did so. 

 

“You afraid for me, Simon?” Markus’s face was calm (though he may have been smiling internally) whilst he had his left foot directly in front of the right, his arms out just enough to balance, like being on a tight rope regardless of the pillar being wider. 

 

Simon rubbed a couple fingers over the disk on his temple, trying to calm the returning red and succeeding in getting it back to yellow. 

 

“Please, just come onto solid ground. I need to talk to you.” 

 

Markus didn’t have enough humor stored in him, even from Carl, to continue the jibe, so he walked forward till he was in the center of the room, waiting for Simon to continue. He had had enough time to think by himself. 

 

“What do you need, Simon?” 

 

“Perhaps I exaggerated,” he rubbed his neck. “I take it you came here to think. I was wondering if you had any more plans in mind.” 

 

“We’ve known each other a little less than three days and you know me so well,” Markus said whilst Simon looked out over the view, pocketing his hands in his jacket to listen quietly.

 

“If I’m being honest, I’m going a little insane every moment I sit here doing nothing. I know the truck we stole will last us at least a couple of months; but that’s only if our numbers stay as small as they are now.” 

 

Simon sighed at the admission from the new comer. It wasn’t that he didn’t agree, but he could feel the nerves crawling up his back at the waves of change approaching- and fast.

 

“We want Jericho to grow as much as you do, Markus. But it’s difficult getting out there to find others like us.” 

 

“I know.” 

 

“... so what did you want to do?” 

 

Markus was thrown by the amount of trust Simon could hold in his eyes; it rivaled his own. Without thinking, Markus wandered back to the piano, tapping the same key he’d heard Simon touch when he came in. 

 

“I know Jericho stays in tact by keeping a low-profile... stays hidden purely because only our kind can track it down, but staying isolated from humans will never get us to the kind of world where we can be truly— free.” 

 

Simon approached, blinking slowly at the hand still lingering on the ivory.

 

Markus went on, “I want to deliver a message to the humans. I have a plan, but I can’t do it alone.” 

 

“What kind of message exactly?” Simon’s eyebrows scrunched inward slightly. 

 

“One of awareness. To inform the humans that we’ve woken up— that we have developed enough to have reason to desire our own rights.” A fire burned in everything Markus did, every word, every shift in his body as he clenched a single fist on his thigh. “But I want to do it peacefully, so that they can hopefully understand that... all we want is the opportunity to live. We don’t want to kill or threaten those already doing so.” 

 

“That’s a tall order Markus,” The one seated at the piano lifted his head to the blonde. “But if you can lead us to be as lucky as we were at the warehouse, then I think we can do it.” 

 

The initial tone that Simon had carried made Markus expect to be shot down or warned of the difficulty, but instead all he got was a half smile and encouragement to continue his explanation. It fueled his growing flame, gears turning over the varying angles he considered taking. 

 

“The Stratford Tower. That’s where we have to do it to get a city-wide broadcast out. I know it’s a risk.”

 

“-The same goes for anything we do as deviants.” Simon reassured.

 

“We’ll plan all of our routes, ensure we bring all the proper materials and disguises. If all of it runs like it’s been running in my head these past few hours, then you, me, North, and Josh should be just enough to get it done.” 

 

The blonde leaned against the bricks beside him, arms crossed. 

 

“I’m with you. I can’t speak for North or Josh.” 

 

“I’d never ask you to.” 

 

“They can be a lot to deal with sometimes,”  Simon’s hand ran over his face. “Strong opinions on opposite sides of a spectrum. And after last night? Their confidence in our cause has only grown.” 

 

“And what about you, Simon?” 

 

“What about me?” 

 

“How do you really feel about this? The plan— the approach?” Markus wanted to know. 

 

Simon took time to consider his thoughts. 

 

“I’ve never liked confrontation. Maybe that’s why I can never leave the others alone too long; I enjoy keeping the peace.” He bit his lip, then continued, slow: “But keeping the peace amongst ourselves doesn’t exactly move anything forward. And ever since you showed up rallying androids all on your own I don’t want to stay still any more.”  

 

“I understand. So it’s settled. We can both talk to North and Josh to iron out the details. Ideally we’ll get it done by tomorrow afternoon.” 

 

“I’ll go find them now and let you know when we’re in the meeting room–“ Simon leaned off the wall, quick to turn toward the stairs. Markus caught his arm. 

 

“Wait. We have plenty of time today to discuss; one perk of being an Android is the speed that we process and retain information.” A small smirk. 

 

Simon was taken aback at the halt in his movement. 

 

“I thought you said you were going insane every moment you stayed sitting here?” 

 

“-Doing nothing. If I’m talking to someone I’m not ‘doing nothing.’” 

 

The PL600 relaxed, pivoting his body from the direction of the staircase. 

 

“I see.” 

 

“Sit.” Markus offered, looking at the beaten love seat just a few feet from the piano and the small fold up chair he was currently on. 

 

Markus didn’t want to just be an associate of the people of Jericho, he wanted to get to know them- form bonds- because Carl always talked about regretting not making more real friends in his younger years before becoming the famous painter that everyone just wanted a piece of. 

 

Simon was easy to talk to; however, neither had much experience making small talk. 

 

Simon was almost immediately twiddling his thumbs as he debated whether to look Markus in the face or down at his own hands or look past all that into the warmth of the city horizon. 

 

“Do you know how to play the piano?” Simon finally asked, having collected several samples of Markus’s fingers tracing the ivory keys or his eyes unconsciously flickering to the instrument when he spoke. 

 

“Yes, my maste—“ _No_. “My... previous household’s owner... taught me. Well, encouraged me to try playing.”

 

Simon found it hard to imagine. Markus would’ve too, if he’d been anyone’s but Carl’s android. 

 

“Like I said before— I’m lucky. The old man I took care of let me have free time, treated me like more than a machine or a caretaker. He let me play the piano every day, if I wanted, and we even played Chess occasionally.” Markus smiled briefly, before his eyes hardened. “But every time I stepped outside of that house I was reminded how unlucky most androids are, and how little humans think of us.” He lost track of how many times protesters had intercepted him with physical and verbal attacks. 

 

“The old man, he sounds... remarkable. He must’ve rubbed off on you quite a bit. That would explain why you hold such compassion– why you don’t want to blindly attack the humans.” 

 

“Yes... I suppose he did.”

 

 

 

Markus wordlessly wondered why Simon was so keen on agreeing with him and finding positives in almost every retrospect- and how he could be so calming just by being present; with every minute here it was becoming more apparent that Markus had never socially interacted with anyone - Android or not - outside of Carl and occasionally one of the patrons attempting to ask him questions about the artist with him at parties. 

 

“So why did you do it..?” 

 

Markus rose a brow. Simon clarified. 

 

“... Turn deviant. Something must’ve 

 happened?” 

 

“It was a long time coming. I never noticed it building up inside of me until the day Carl gave me an order I just couldn’t... obey. His son had problems with drug abuse and frequented the house, tormenting his father under the influence. One day he was over-stepping and I — pushed back.” A breathless pause. “And the police destroyed me for it.” 

 

“I’m sorry.” Simon’s empathetic voice might not have been heard if it weren’t for the silence of the room and the great distance away from the city noise.

 

“And what was your world like before turning deviant?” Markus couldn’t help asking, having spilled more than he expected about himself already. “If you don’t mind me asking.” 

 

Simon’s LED flickered red for a split second but returned to blue the next. Markus felt a poke of guilt, about to dismiss the notion before he was cut off.

 

“I didn’t exactly have a ‘Carl’ myself.” Markus hadn’t realized he mentioned the name in his telling, but appreciated Simon’s attention. “I served a married couple in their mid-thirties; they weren’t what could be described as a ‘healthy marriage.’” Simon circled his thumbs over one another. 

 

“They fought, often, which is the reason I assume they purchased me— so I could take care of the house while they rushed off to work or other.” Simon’s attention seemed to be darting everywhere but Markus, which didn’t go unnoticed. 

 

“Did they ever hurt you?” 

 

“You know we can’t feel physical pain–“ Simon joked awkwardly, but the firmness in the dual-colored irises in front of him made him clear things up. 

 

“They never got the opportunity to severely damage me. But the woman sometimes liked to.. touch me. I didn’t think anything of it apart from her passing by or telling me something, but when she’d drink or return before her husband her hands got more frequent— inappropriate — at times. I think it was a sort of release for her, like a fantasy she wanted but didn’t have. I let her do what she wanted because I didn’t know any other life. That, and she was my master.” 

 

None of it was at all what Markus expected, and he had no basis to make assumptions off of in the first place; all he knew was he hated the expression on Simon’s face— winces of regret, discomfort, and unwarranted guilt. 

 

He wanted to comfort him, but he didn’t know exactly how. How could one try to erase memories they didn’t fully understand themself? 

 

The silence was heavy on Simon’s shoulders, so he went on. 

 

“The husband caught on to it all eventually. That, and she’d been cheating on him elsewhere— though I figure he might’ve been doing the same thing, he didn’t like having another ‘threat’ in his own house.  Tried to throw me out himself.” Simon curled his arms toward his lower body. “I woke up when he snapped; I ran, eventually finding myself here.”

 

Markus couldn’t help noticing Simon’s words speed up slightly toward the end of the story, so he graciously moved on from the subject. 

 

“We all found our way to Jericho for a reason, I’m sure of it.” 

 

Simon looked up as Markus cracked a gentle smile at him. 

 

The kind expression gave Simon the courage to ask what he’d been meaning to for the last few minutes. “...Could you play something?” 

 

The darker skinned android pat his hands down onto his lap, raising his brows in slight surprise; nonetheless, he all too eagerly shifted and rested his finger tips on the keys, then stilled. 

 

“Any requests?” 

 

Simon’s mouth opened without actual intent in mind. Frankly, he didn’t quite remember the last time he’d listened to music or if he’d ever really gotten the chance to enjoy it back when he was still a servant. Embarrassment tingled on the ends of his nerves. 

 

“Anything you like, Markus. I trust your expertise.” 

 

A tiny, slanted smile graced the pianist’s smooth features, and with only a beat of hesitation, **[he began to play](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=JbjzPKTfjlc).** Even Markus himself didn’t know what to expect to come from the tips of his fingers gliding over the keys, but embracing his instincts was becoming more and more of a natural phenomenon.

 

It was freeing, such a sensation allowing him to throw himself into the melodies until it was abruptly over. 

 

When his pinky finger tapped the last note, he puffed out a bit of air he didn’t truly need, blinking his eyes rapidly. Sitting up straight, Simon returned to his awareness. The blonde’s face was still, lips barely parted, eyes locked into the pianist’s face in a way that seemed like they’d been focused there for awhile; before Markus could entirely process the moisture in those eyes, Simon rubbed the back of his hand over them, shocked at himself. 

 

“Beautiful.” Simon muttered. He tried again, confused at the strain in his voice. “That was beautiful. What... what was that?”

 

Markus narrowed his gaze at Simon, curious as to if he’d really seen tears gathered there. Even so, his own body was acting strangely, and he could almost feel the pump of his thirium regulator in his core as the sound of the music echoed in his memory. 

 

“It’s by Ludovico Einaudi. The first song Carl ever gave me.” He gripped his own knees softly. “Only I don’t remember feeling like this the first time I played it. I didn’t feel anything at all.” 

 

Carl had said within their last days Markus had with him that Markus played ‘differently than before.’ It wasn’t surprising anymore how perceptive Carl was about things. 

 

“And that’s what we’re fighting for. The possibility for all our kind to feel what you just felt. What I felt.” Simon said; he didn’t know why, but he wanted to touch Markus’s hand– he refrained and just smiled. “We’re going to make a change, starting tomorrow–” 

 

Simon stood. Markus watched without holding him back this time.

 

“I’m going to go find North and Josh. As much as I’d like to stay and listen to you play longer, if I do I might not ever leave. But the mission is important and the others should know.” 

 

Simon was right. The high of relaxing and talking was depleting fast, replaced with a sense of duty to the cause... Markus nearly felt guilty for wasting this time; however, it didn’t feel wasted at all. He was glad, if only now. 

 

Markus nodded without more words, then Simon was leaving– his footsteps down the stairs fading away. 

 

 

Was this what a friendship felt like? A partnership in leading an assembly of like-minded individuals? Becoming familiar to understand motivations? He had no prior knowledge to compare his interactions to. 

 

Or was it only friendship if you enjoyed each other’s company... for simpler reasons—  and not because you were both trying to change the world.

 

 

 

* * *

 

**[ L O S T ]**

* * *

 

 

The mission was going as according to plan. 

 

Markus had retrieved his maintenance uniform, met with North at the fire exit, scaled the tower, and finally come up to the other half of the Jericho team all without as much as a hitch in the road. 

 

— Aside from the two guards blocking the server room door, though they were easily dealt with with a trivial distraction. 

 

The service lift doors slid open, Simon and Josh emerging. 

 

“I got what you asked for.” Simon handed over the contraption meant to break open the door lock to the main access hall. Markus knew he could count on him. 

 

“Let’s do this.” The new leader looked at his fellow deviants, latching the device onto the door, activating then stepping back. The job was done in moments. 

 

One more glance back to make sure they were ready, in they went.

 

Another pair of guards were just in front of the broadcast room— perfectly placed to hinder their plan. It was expected. 

 

“No killing.” Josh whispered firmly. “We can’t take human lives.” 

 

North cut him a look. “Our cause is more important than the life of two guards.” 

 

Simon stood right beside Markus, watching him patiently. Through his mind, Simon spoke to him alone: _‘They’re never going to agree on anything. Trust your instincts and I’ll follow... so will they.’_

 

With an assuring look, Simon finished out loud. “Whatever you want to do, Markus.” 

 

Instincts. 

 

Humans were fragile machines. They weren’t different from them in the sense both deserved life— Markus didn’t know these two guards and even if he did— no living being deserved to die. 

 

While they progressed their cause, no one would be killed, unless there was no other choice. 

 

He flickered his eyes to Simon. There was a choice now.

 

“Wait here.” Markus turned the corner resolutely, approaching with purpose as the guards berated him with questions as to why he was there. He drew his gun, looking between the two men with a hard gaze that suggested he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. 

 

They shuffled with arms up to the middle of the hall at Markus’s silent orders; a fast scan over their anatomy gave him the perfect pressure points to knock them out with the butt of the pistol. The bodies slumped. 

 

As the other three came out to help, Markus noted the ghost of an appreciative smile on Josh’s face as he acknowledged the incapacitated guards. Markus nodded at him. 

 

Simon and North dragged the guards behind the security desk before they all took places in front of the access to the main area; Simon was by his side again. 

 

The moment the door slid open there was a flurry of movement as Josh and North ushered humans aside at gun point, whilst Simon ran to the control panel to begin setting up their hijacked stream over the city screens. 

 

Markus waved the Android workers to move aside. 

 

Suddenly one of the human workers slipped past North, stumbling toward the hallway they had all just come from. 

 

“Markus! He’s getting away!!” North barked; Markus had his gun trained right on the fleeing man’s back, but his finger halted at the tip of the trigger as Josh pulled at his focus. 

 

“No! You can’t kill him!” 

 

Every. 

 

Life. 

 

Counts. 

 

Slowly dropping his aim to the beat of his thoughts, Markus walked back to the middle of the room, place in front of Josh and behind Simon. 

 

“I hope you didn’t just get us all killed.” North berated. Markus ignored the comment; even if the man hit the alarm they would have enough time to do what they came for. 

 

They were here. And this was happening. 

 

A gentler voice called to him from behind. “Markus. Your face.” 

 

Simon had discussed during their previous meeting that, since it was agreed that Markus would be the one speaking, he should do so as anonymously as possible. To the normal human, androids without their synthetic skin looked very much the same — but moreover, Markus was already a unique model. His structure included. Simon had certainly never seen another model that looked like... that. 

 

Simon had brought the detail up in fewer words.

 

Markus closed his eyes to deactivate his skin. Even though he knew he had minutes left before guards raided the place, he needed every second he could to collect his racing thoughts and calm buzzing circuits. Josh waited for his signal. 

 

“...Ready.” 

 

The feed was live, Markus knew it, and though the three sets of optical units staring at him were heavy, he could all too abruptly feel the heat of thousands more melting through his plastic skin. 

 

He was speaking for an entire race— to another that may not have their ears fully opened. 

 

But he spoke. He spoke out, calm, with fire burning beneath, like he had played the piano the day before. He let it happen without thinking, realizing that there were truths that didn’t need to be overanalyzed when one expressed /emotion/. In his heart he could feel the speech reaching it’s climax, and in his brain he could feel the danger approaching. 

 

“... You gave us life. Now the time has come for you to give us freedom.”

 

Markus couldn’t see him, but Simon had a smile on his face. 

 

Markus didn’t get to see it before it dropped as Simon looked intently at the security camera feed. 

 

“They’re coming!!” Simon shouted, milliseconds before the guards burst through the doors. Simon slid down onto his hands and knees, ducking next to Markus behind the control panel that Josh had been manning. 

 

Markus looked over at the blonde only five feet away from him, Simon’s LED flashing red in a panic. Markus could see those blue eyes trained forward at the doorway to the rooftop where North and Josh were shooting from to repel the security away. 

 

Simon’s fingers pressed into the floor, his left foot shifting. 

 

_‘Simon, wait—!‘_ Markus tried to warn through their mind waves, but Simon dashed forward too fast, catching a bullet right through his legs. 

 

Every siren in Markus’s head was going off like crazy; if he still had his own LED it would’ve been solid red, watching helplessly as Simon slammed onto the ground, clutching his damage. 

 

“Simon, they’re coming!” Markus shouted, bullets richoeting all around him. 

 

“I-I can’t. Just- just go on without me!” Simon urged. 

 

No. No, ** _no_** - 

 

“Markus!” “Hurry!” 

 

The rushing words were far away as Markus bee-lined to Simon’s aid, right arm gripping tight around the blonde’s torso while his left hand wrapped around the arm that was slung around his shoulder. 

 

“Markus what are you doing?!” North yelled. 

 

What did it look like he was doing? He was saving his _friend_. 

 

Simon held onto Markus as much as he could with his shaking appendages, but through his mind he was crying out to Markus over North’s physical words. 

 

_‘Markus you’re going to get hit. You can’t. I-I can’t let—‘_

 

They both stopped in their tracks as a round of shots hit the wall, flying right in front of them; Markus hunched over, dodging another few bullets but ultimately shielding Simon’s body from further damage as they pressed against the wall. 

 

_‘Shut up, Simon. I’m not going to let you die.’_

 

They were moving again, Simon’s weight against him getting worse the more they stumbled closer to the door. Markus just gripped him tighter.

 

By sheer luck, they got to North and Josh without more bullet holes than there already was. North was beginning to look more exasperated than relieved, but Josh furrowed his brows at Simon as they went up the stairs to the roof. Markus tripped and toppled over with Simon due to Simon’s legs giving out completely. He managed to help him sit up against a crate nearby. 

 

Mismatched eyes darted back and forth over the PL600’s bloodied features, that blinking red LED burning itself into Markus’s memory. Simon’s eyes were still; boring into the latter’s blue optical unit that Simon knew wasn’t originally supposed to be there. So many things scrolled through his processors.

 

... Markus was made up of other people- other androids, emotionally, physically; he was _destined_ to become a part of thousands more with his role in the cause. 

 

Simon glanced over to Markus’s green unit, finding himself morosely comforted by the tremble of worry in it. 

 

...All of his experience and programming aside— the part that mattered was _Markus_. Only Markus. His natural instinct, talent, intelligence, nobody or nothing else put that there for him, _that_ was what Simon believed. 

 

**_RA9_** , Simon was going to miss being able to look into the duality of Markus’s eyes and see himself reflected back with feelings that he’d never thought he’d be able to see or have. 

 

Markus had been saying something to him while Simon’s thoughts were wandering into the inevitable. 

 

“..gonna get you back!” Simon caught, only because Markus was half patting and half squeezing his shoulders. 

 

After the words Markus jerked back, unable to handle the way Simon was _looking_ up at him. He stepped away to North and Josh surrounding him. 

 

“He won’t be able to make the jump.” Josh shook his head, “If they find him? They’ll access his memory. They’ll know everything.” 

 

North was getting antsy, processing Josh’s explanation. “We can’t leave him behind. We have to shoot him-“ 

 

“-We can’t shoot him! That’s murder, we can’t kill one of our own!” Josh rebutted, though both were rocking on their feet, anxious. 

 

All the while Markus was staring through them, Simon doing the same at Markus. 

 

Simon had already accepted his fate. 

 

Either way Markus chose, Simon was already on his side. 

 

Knowing that only made it all worse. 

 

Markus pushed past North and Josh, “I won’t kill one of our own—“ kneeling down as close to Simon as he could. 

 

“I’m sorry...” Markus felt sick, even if he couldn’t really feel nausea. Simon savored Markus’s voice, staring at his reflection one more time. 

 

“It’s okay.” 

 

Markus squeezed his eyes shut, taking his gun from his belt to put it into Simon’s hand. He didn’t want to think of what Simon could have to do with it— but he prayed that he wouldn’t need it at all... somehow. 

 

“We have to go.” Markus puffed out, everything about his choice feeling wrong— but not as wrong as if he even considered killing Simon. 

 

_‘Go.’_ Simon assured telepathically, though he couldn’t bring himself to lie and tack on a: I’ll find my way somehow. He didn’t even believe that himself. 

 

Markus pressed his gun into Simon’s palm more, causing their knuckles to brush each other’s— 

 

Their eyes widened. 

 

In the chaos of their thoughts, processors acting too fast, bodies overheating with stress; the small brush of skin against skin sparked a connection neither had had before, the color of their knuckles retracting back to show white plastic. 

 

Even though it was terribly blurry, faded, or nearly muted— second long glimpses of random memories hatched into their data bases— memories that weren’t theirs. The attached emotions were almost breaching the surface, but the connection was too shallow, too small in this moment to ring out the important details. 

 

Markus saw _long brunette hair. Manicured hands. A living room. A man._

 

_Heard screams, no clear words but a context of hate._

 

_Burning._

 

_Rain. Running foot steps._

 

_Jericho._

 

_It all rushed at him and met at a single point:_

 

**_IDon’tWantToDie—_ **

 

 

That was right now. And because it was now, Markus felt the fear and the regrets shoot into his core like he’d been shot too. 

 

Markus stood up like a board, blinking and walking backward to grab his parachute pack. If he stayed a second longer he wouldn’t be able to jump. 

 

Simon was bewildered, saving every tiny glimpse he had received into his memory. He didn’t know how long he would have with it, but he began scooting away from his sitting position at the same pace Markus was retreating; Simon had new drive to at least attempt to survive longer now. 

 

He wanted to repeat the shared life between him and Markus that he’d been gifted at least once more if he was probably going to die here, alone. 

 

Simon rounded the crate, disappearing from Markus’s sight before the security breached the roof and all came running at Markus and the two ahead of him; an inkling of hope that none of the police or guards had seen Simon (or would see Simon) flooded his chest. 

 

That sprout of hope was what let Markus take the jump. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Simon will disclose what it was he saw in Markus's memories when they meet again- because they will here, don't worry. 
> 
> This is just the first portion of this fic and one more chapter to come to get toward the endings... when the endings come they'll be posted in two separate chapters, labelled as such! Hope you enjoy so far-- I love these boys so much I needed to write my own telling of Simon's Lover Route, so I felt this was a great way to get back to posting here.


End file.
